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He was still pondering over what to do about the situation when he and Hope were curled up on the sofa that evening. He was trying to listen to a podcast with his earbuds, while she read. Realising he’d missed a chunk of the show, he lifted his phone from the arm of the sofa and slid the progress bar back a few minutes. Hope set aside the book she was reading and tilted her head back to glare up at him. ‘Can you stop brooding in my ear, please?’
He pulled one of his earbuds out. ‘I wasn’t brooding!’ he protested.
‘Of course not,’ Hope muttered before she settled back against him. ‘Well, whatever it is you are doing, can you do it without sighing every five seconds?’
‘I’ll try,’ Cam promised, and tucked his earbud back in.
Two minutes later and Hope’s book slammed closed again. She heaved herself up and turned to face him, arms folded across her chest. ‘Come on, out with it,’ she demanded.
Cam switched off his phone and removed his earbuds. ‘I’m worried about Scott.’
Hope’s exasperated expression softened immediately. ‘You think his father’s going to cause trouble when he visits?’
‘I don’t know, but even if he doesn’t, I’m still bothered by the tension in their relationship. If Scott doesn’t find a way to get out from under his thumb, I’m worried he’ll have a breakdown of some sort. You should’ve seen him today.’
‘Maybe it’d be better if we didn’t let him visit,’ Hope posited. ‘This is private land at the end of the day, so we are within our rights to withhold access to it. I can speak to Mum about cancelling his booking – we can make up an excuse – tell him there’s a problem with the plumbing and that we’re fully booked otherwise.’
It was a tempting thought, but wouldn’t that just be kicking the can down the road? ‘That might cause even more problems for the kid.’
‘He sounds like a real piece of work,’ Hope said as she reached for a cushion and set it on her crossed legs. ‘What with him, and bloody Keith Riley still acting the fool, I should be relieved that I don’t know who my father is.’
It was a totally left-field comment, and Cam wondered what had been going on with Hope that he hadn’t been aware of. ‘Has something else happened between you and your mum?’ It was the only thing he could think of that might have unsettled her.
Hope lifted the cushion and hugged it to her chest before setting it back down with a sigh. ‘No. She’s been amazing. I know she still worries about me, but she’s trying so hard not to fuss.’ A little smile crept across her lips. ‘Honestly, it’s almost comical sometimes the way she goes to ask me something and then changes the subject.’
‘She doesn’t mind how much time you’ve been spending with me?’ It had crossed Cam’s mind, but he didn’t want to discourage Hope from spending every free minute she had with him. He knew he was being selfish about it, but their relationship was all still so new and he wanted to hold onto every moment he could share with her.
‘Not at all!’ Hope tossed the cushion aside and came to curl up against him once more. ‘She knocked on my bedroom door earlier and said I should get a move on because I was probably keeping you waiting.’
‘I did start to wonder when it got to half-past seven and you hadn’t arrived,’ he teased, even though he’d not got back to the lodge until nearly quarter past.
‘Well, you said you were going to be late, so I nipped into the village to see how Amelia and her mum were getting on.’ She nestled a little closer and that, combined with her earlier comment about bloody Keith Riley, was enough to tell him all he needed to know.
‘It’s not the sort of situation that will resolve itself overnight.’ As he said the words, he knew they could just as well apply to the problems Scott was facing with his father. ‘All we can do is be around to offer whatever support we can.’
‘I know, but it doesn’t feel like enough.’ Hope sat up again and Cam wondered what was going on with her because she wasn’t normally this much of a fidget.
‘And all this stuff with Amelia and her dad has been making you think about your own father?’
Hope pulled a face. ‘Yes… and no.’ He’d never been any good at the cryptic crossword, so Cam sat quietly until Hope could figure out what she wanted to say. ‘It shouldn’t make a difference, should it?’ she said at last, which was no bloody help at all.
‘What shouldn’t?’
‘He shouldn’t. I’ve gone twenty-five years without knowing anything about him, why should I care now?’
Ah. ‘It’s only natural to wonder about him. You really don’t know anything about him at all?’
She flopped onto her back with her head in his lap and looked up at him. ‘It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? I see the agonies Amelia is going through, hear you telling me about poor Scott and all the crap his dad gives him, and I know, I know that if I looked, I’d probably hate whatever I found out and yet…’
‘Do you think perhaps if you knew the truth about him, you’d be able to put it behind you and move on?’ The man was dead, so Cam didn’t see how much harm it could do her to know the truth.
‘I don’t know. I tell myself it’s a waste of time and will only lead to more heartache and then the next minute I’m cleansing my face in front of the mirror and trying to work out which of my features might be from his side of the family.’
‘Have you spoken to your mum about it? Perhaps if you asked her, she’d tell you a bit more about him, help put your mind at rest?’
‘Oh, I couldn’t.’ Hope shook her head. ‘I couldn’t possibly put her through that!’
